


Technicalities (Doing Your Part to Support the Pharmaceutical Industry)

by Ruuger



Series: Episode tags for The Mentalist [2]
Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s01e10 Red Brick and Ivy, Gen, Missing Scene, POV Outsider, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-29
Updated: 2010-03-29
Packaged: 2017-10-08 12:25:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruuger/pseuds/Ruuger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It doesn't end when the murderer says "I did it"...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Technicalities (Doing Your Part to Support the Pharmaceutical Industry)

**Author's Note:**

> Makes more sense if you've seen "Red Brick and Ivy".

"Margaret, I'm leaving for lunch, how's my calendar for the rest of the afternoon?"

District Attorney Harris stepped out of his room to find his secretary standing in front of her desk. Her expression was serious, and she was holding a thick folder.

"The courier service just dropped this over. Also, Mister Liehmann called for an appointment. I put him down for three o'clock to give you time to prepare."

Harris frowned, patting his pockets to locate his keys. "Liehmann? I thought the old bastard was playing golf at the Bahamas this week. Must be something big, if-" He looked up. "Oh no."

Margaret gave him an apologetic smile as she handed over the folder. "I'm sorry sir. Shall I cancel your reservation?"

He nodded absentmindedly and returned to his office, taking off his jacket and loosening his tie as he sat behind his desk again. He stared at the folder for a few seconds before opening it with a sigh. Five minutes later there was a knock on the door, and Margaret entered the room, carrying a small tray. He looked up at her.

"At gunpoint? Really?"

"I'm sorry," she repeated, and set the tray on the table. There was a glass of water, a wrapped sandwich, and a bottle of Tylenol.

He skimmed the rest of the folder and then grabbed the phone, cradling the receiver between his ear and his shoulder as he twisted the small bottle open.

"Michael? Hi, it's Steve. Look, just wanted to give you heads-up that you should probably call your wife to let her know that you won't be home for dinner today. Or this week." He swallowed the tylenol and chased it down with water, trying to pretend that it was a shot of whiskey. He really could have used one. "Uh huh. Yeah, what else? CBI's let their pet psychic on the loose again."


End file.
